


Better Than We've Had

by kinky_kneazle



Category: Gay Pirates (song)
Genre: M/M, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 18:19:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinky_kneazle/pseuds/kinky_kneazle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian tells his story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Than We've Had

**Author's Note:**

  * For [curiouslyfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiouslyfic/gifts).



> A series of 10 drabbles. Contains mentions of rape and torture, but no more than in the canon.

When I crashed into the water I thought it was the end. My only consolation was that he was there, eyes wide as I plunged past him into the crystal-clear water. He struggled after me, and managed to snag the rope that bound my hands, and then kicked hard for the surface. We broke through the water, gasping for breath, and he nudged me towards the port side.

"Land ahoy, Sebastian," he murmured in my ear.

We flipped onto our backs and began to kick towards the hint of sand far on the horizon. I realised he'd saved me again.

 

It was almost a year ago that I first saw him. We attacked his ship, and he had stood proud and defiant on its deck as we boarded. He had a cutlass in one hand and a pistol in the other and he fought like the devil himself had taken control. His fleet was already decimated and they ran. Only his ship was so crippled they couldn't get away. He surrendered to save what was left of his crew.

I don't know why the captain let him live, but when I looked into his eyes I was glad he did.

 

The others called him Commodore. They liked to remind him of what he used to be. Now he was no better than a slave, swabbing the decks, cleaning out slop buckets and serving as whipping boy for everyone else on the boat.

He never broke, never let them see he was hurting.

He couldn't hide from me. There are quiet corners on ships, places where no one ever goes. I found him there and washed the blood from welts the lash left. I wanted to kiss that back covered with bloody marks. He walked away from me without a word.

 

It was when we were away from port that there was trouble on the ship. With no towns to rape and pillage, the captain turned to me. I don't suppose the captain would be a pirate if he was a kind man; with no outlet for his frustration, he turned downright cruel towards his crew. Towards me.

 _He_ found me in his hiding spot. _Our_ little corner below deck, hidden in a maze of loot and rum barrels. He looked deep into my haunted eyes and wiped the blood from my lips. Then he kissed me, and I felt new.

 

I hid when the captain was mad. _He_ always found me. His touch was soft when I'd only known harshness; he brought pleasure when I knew only pain.

With the floor rocking below us he made me moan his name and showed me something I'd never seen before.

I begged him to take me, even though we were lying on the filthy floor of a pirate ship, but he wanted to be sure that I understood. When he finally eased into my body I recognised love in his eyes. It was enough. He held me above the horror around us.

 

We found every moment we could after that, sneaking away at night to sleep in each other's arms. Waking up with a kiss in the morning.

There was still the captain for me, the others for him. Beatings and rapes and days we thought we wouldn't survive, but at night we found solace with each other.

It couldn't last. Even in the most out of the way corner, it was still a ship. There weren't that many places to hide.

One of barrels moved and I looked over his shoulder into the eyes of a midshipman. We were in trouble.

 

The crew kept their torture to him at first. They knew I belonged to another; the captain wouldn't be pleased if I was damaged.

But he took it all with the same pride as he'd taken their lashes when he first joined. When they pissed on his hammock, he slept on the floor. He walked all day in sandals full of broken glass.

As I picked the shards from his feet I asked why he'd worn them at all.

"I won't let them turn on you," he whispered.

I told myself the salt on my cheeks came from the sea.

 

One night they went too far. They held me on my knees and took turns with him.

"Watch," they said. "Or he dies."

I lifted my head, stretching away from the dagger at my throat. But I did not close my eyes. I kept them on him throughout it all.

"I'm yours." It was the faintest whisper, but I could read the words on his lips.

"I love you," I replied and it was true, even in this hell.

The man holding me heard, and the dagger pierced my throat. His eyes widened.

That was when the captain walked in.

 

There were explanations. Excuses. The lash on my back. He was silent through it all. He stood proud and tall. But I knew him; I could see him flinch at every blow that landed on me.

In the end it came down to one thing: I was the captain's and he had touched me. For that he had to die.

The captain offered me life if I would crawl to him. I looked into _his_ eyes and knew I could do it.

I said, "No."

I followed him down the plank. At least I would die knowing I was loved.

 

It felt like hours in the water before I finally felt land below my feet. My arms were numb, my legs beyond sore, but we were alive, and we were together.

He dragged us to the shade. Dealt with the ropes; found us water. I felt helpless, but not alone. Never alone with him by my side.

Finally he collapsed beside me and I held him close, trying to make him feel as safe as I did with him here.

"We're far away now, love," I whispered. "We'll be happy. We deserve this. It's so much better than we had."


End file.
